


Drabble Collection

by Luthienberen



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, grimm_challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1370710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthienberen/pseuds/Luthienberen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three 'drabbles' written for the grimm_challenge Livejournal challenge, which was character focused and between 100 to 500 words:</p>
<p>"Hunger" - Nick </p>
<p>"Death" - Nick</p>
<p>"Childhood" - Sean Renard</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble Collection

**Author's Note:**

> There are slight spoilers for end of Season 2, beginning of Season 3.

Hunger 

_(220 words)_

Nick glanced furtively around the bustling café. He was in a rather seedy part of Portland. The café had a worn look, as if it had seen the erosion of years without the comfort of any barriers: peeling wallpapers, cracked tables and the floor was a peculiar shade, suggesting that it could no longer be cleaned to a high shine.

The people and Wesen had an aura that had Nick itching to check their activities. First, however, he had to see to personal business.

“Your order,” growled the Lowen.

Nick kept his head down, thanking strong aftershave. “Thanks.”

The Lowen disappeared with a grunt and Nick examined his meal. Smiling as he inhaled the wonderful scent that had his mouth dripping salvia, Nick cut a chunk and raised his forkful of juicy steak.

Chewing ardently Nick almost swooned like a damsel. Since moving in with Monroe he hadn’t had any meat, too busy at work even to stop for a burger. He couldn’t ask Monroe to suffer so he had to resort to hiding like a criminal. This was so illicit yet so right. Nick sighed, eyes shut. This was heaven.

Who cared for the décor or people? He had discovered his supply of perfectly done steak with no Blutbad primed to attack.

Living with a vegetarian Blutbad was hard.

* * *

 

Death

_(100 words)_

The rage was all-consuming. It tore away his reason even as a small part clung in the most remote area of his being. This Nick railed at what he was becoming.

Anger and pain were becoming his world and all Nick wished to do was strike out, infect others.

Vengeance and death. His insides churned as he loped along.

There: a lone human. Fury at the injustice of his anguish rose within, obliterating the Nick that shrieked in denial at what he was going to do.

He tasted blood and happiness. There would be one more suffering victim this night.

* * *

 

 

Childhood

_(456 words)_

His mother had always been a powerful constant in Renard’s life. As far back as he could remember she was the one who guided him through the twisting path that was life. She had taught him how to discern the deceptively easy looking roadways from the rough-hewn ones, until he knew that the hard cumbersome path was wiser in the long run than the quick jog along an obstacle free course.

As a young boy he would sit in her lap as she brewed her potions, listening to her chant as she added ingredients.

“Only because your human nature,” she would murmur sadly when he attempted to mimic her.

Then in his frustration, because he loved her so much and wanted to emulate his mother in all things, she would stroke his ebony hair and kiss the crown of his head.

The best days were when the fairy-tale creatures that visited their home. His mother would introduce him and use the opportunity for him to sharpen his skills in discourse and charm. Renard recalled one Wesen in particular who handled him with care and affection.

It was that Wesen, a Blutbad funnily enough, that for some reason took a liking to him. Renard couldn’t even after all these years figure out why. Perhaps the wolf had owed his mother for a spell? Had lost a child?

That Blutbad was there when he first saw his Zauberbiest nature and screamed in shock. Seeing your mother’s ghostly face was one thing, seeing your own transform another. Sean remembered the warmth and comfort of those arms around him and the wolf face peering at him until his mother returned and also soothed his fears away.

It was why he had left Monroe alone even when he could have interfered long ago. The friendly wolf had reminded him of the affectionate Big Bad Wolf of his childhood.

Childhood had fallen away to adulthood, his mother passed and her little boy’s grief was none the less for being carefully hidden.

Life continued for Renard, a honed product of his mother’s design and desire, still fought the Royal family he was peripheral member of, but now with a Grimm and his motley crew as allies.

Sean Renard knew his mother would have been shocked, but also proud he was using all the resources available, just as she had trained him to.

Placing a single bouquet of flowers on her concealed grave Renard smiled, “You will never guess Mother, what has happened.”

Buttoning his black jacket Sean Renard sat and like a little boy from years hence he crossed his feet, put his chin in his hands, bent his head as if speaking into his mother’s ear and whispered of his latest ventures.

 


End file.
